Interesting memoir, interesting mostly because it is demographically unusual--white woman gets involved with Japanese man, gets married. (Increasingly less unusual, but still less-often seen than the reverse; "international marriage" is also often coded to be white-Japanese, and since "gaijin" is coded usually to be white, it feels like a layer is missing). I can't speak to the gay world/s, as my gay friends are more international...). The book feels a bit like it oversells her feminism--or maybe because it is not the kind I recognize. The main flaw in the book for me is "content"-related--that is to say, she sees Japan as a relief from trapping expectations (so far so good), but takes the expat way out. But it's interesting that because she claims no obligation to a lot of social rules, that she ultimately ends up fulfilling them. Married, no steady work, caring for an elderly parent. She never really learns Japanese, despite her emphasis that Osaka is a very different scene than Tokyo, which for all its flaws of non-engagement, at least HAS a lot of (evident) foreigners around to ignore. The Osaka angle could have been a lot more interesting--it feels very gateway, because of the language thing. The role language plays is quite interesting though, because though the range of experiential options is not there, the way it pans out, in English, with the husband seems to be a non-issue with them. That itself was interesting. He was an interesting character--for reasons of discretion, I suppose, much is left undrawn. The legal/professional discretion deleted a lot of the interesting courtship stuff, too. Sneaking around is described, but it's all from a great distance. What kind of company did he work for, that sponsored his trip to Harvard (it seems...discreet somewhat annoying faux-cryptic mentions of MIT landscapes from particular buildings are mentioned), set up his apartment married life handsomely? Did he have to navigate anything at work? I'm not really sure what years this took place, though I suppose I could figure it out. It is a true "inner life" memoir, in that larger social shifts--employment, economic, household, etc.--are not really visible or tangible. She didn't do one typical expat route of freeze-drying habits from the old place and tuning out the new one. But shufu, since a huge set of debates in 1955, have been a huge lens for social insights and change, from the anti-nuclear and peace movements to radical feminist critiques of property. At the end of the book, it still seems like she didn't have any female Japanese friends, which to me was sad. And she didn't seem to have any interest or sense of historical shifts in travel or immigration, which could have given a nice kick to her work. And I would have enjoyed more concrete description of readings she did in her 4 Stories series--we get mostly flashback plot summary, no names, themes, questions, continuities. But as a memoir of "it can be done," it is fairly rare. Japanese men get bad, broad press in Eng-lang writing because most newsworthy things are done by the equivalent of grumpy old white men. So this was also refreshing in introducing 2 sympathetic male characters of different generations, even if they remained rather float-y, and a shift away from Tokyo, which was also welcome.